The sound of donations echoed throughout the room. From the darkness, Mitsuki stared at the secondary monitor of his PC in silence. Then, he kept typing at an absurd speed.
"They can all come at once," he said, speaking into his headset microphone. "Even if they try stream sniping, they won't stand a chance against me."
His black eyes reflected the screen, and his long black hair rested over his shoulders. Even though his voice was that of a young man in his twenties, his face told a completely different story. The shape of his head, his porcelain-like skin, his pink lips, his long eyelashes, his small and perfect nose, his silky hair, his small and soft hands, his slender and androgynous body—saying he looked like a cute girl wouldn't be an exaggeration.
Suddenly, gunshots rang out through his headset. One after another, enemies dropped like flies. Mitsuki smiled in the darkness and said:
"See? No one can beat me. Try as many times as you want and keep failing. It's fun watching you cry in the chat."
The truth was, Mitsuki Kirishima was doing his daily livestream for fans all over the world. At that moment, around two million people were watching, an absurd number that only he could pull off every single day. People loved watching the best in the world humiliate everyone—but they also wanted to see him fall. Everyone dreamed that someone better would appear and kick his cute ass.
Unfortunately, that savior had yet to arrive.
Still, the chat was complete chaos. There were languages from all over the world: Spanish, English, Chinese, Japanese, and many others that kept flooding the server. And Mitsuki smiled at it all with pride and arrogance.
'The number of viewers is insane, but that just proves how superior I am,' he thought, closing the previous shooter game. "Hey, chat. There's a new game I want to try. I'm going to download it right now and test it live. And I don't care if you want to see something else. I'll play whatever I feel like, so I'll leave competitive games for later."
The chat on the screen exploded with complaints. Everyone was here to watch the King of the Void play competitive games like League of Mythos, where Mitsuki always proved he didn't need a team of five to dominate matches with overwhelming victories.
He looked at the chat and sighed, tired.
"I'll play LoM later, stop whining already."
Just like that, time passed on the clock. Mitsuki kept looking at the chat and replying with sarcasm or arrogance whenever he could. The viewers didn't seem bothered by his attitude—that was the King of the Void, after all.
However, there was a moment during the stream when a comment made Mitsuki fall silent for a few seconds, staring into nothing as if he were startled.
[ Holyday: You look a lot like a girl. How much money would it take for you to dress like one? ]
Mitsuki cleared his throat and, seeing everyone else supporting the comment, replied:
"I think it's time to end the stream. I've been here for ten hours; I need to stretch my legs and go to sleep. Bye."
Without any further explanation, the stream ended, leaving all the viewers confused. It had been very sudden. Meanwhile, Mitsuki fell face-first onto the bed near his PC, just out of the camera's view.
'It's nothing, I'm just really tired. Maybe I'll play a bit of Battlecraft to relax.'
He was about to stand up, but a phone call stopped him. He looked at the name on the screen and, more relaxed, answered:
"Hello? Ayaka?"
A woman's voice came through.
[ Mitsuki, I was watching the stream. Are you feeling okay? Do you want me to come over? I can bring you something to eat. ]
"I was going to say no, but when you mentioned food, I changed my mind."
[ Alright, then I'll be there in half an hour. I also wanted to talk to you about upcoming sponsorships and events. Some want you to attend in person. ]
He sighed. "I don't do that. If they want me at their event, it has to be on my terms."
[ Mitsuki… you should think about going outside a bit. How many years have you been locked in there? ]
"I'm not talking about that right now, Ayaka. I'm really sleepy. I'm going to bed."
[ Then I'll come wake you up like always. ]
"Please don't…"
[ Too late. I'm already on my way. See you. ]
The call ended. Mitsuki lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He remained silent for a few seconds, thinking about what that woman—his manager—had mentioned. Soon, his eyes grew heavy and slowly closed.
The sound of a notification echoed.
'Now what?' He picked up his phone. It was an email. An… invitation? 'Did you send this, Ayaka?'
His manager had just mentioned something about sponsorships. Maybe she sent this ahead of time for what they were going to discuss later. Curious, he opened the email in his inbox, but something felt off.
'There's no sender…'
Still, there was a very long message about a new game called Crimson Souls, a dark fantasy game currently in development, scheduled for release in two years.
'That's strange. Well… I'll ask my manager about this later.'
He set the phone down on the bed and closed his eyes. Then he fell into a deep sleep, having gone several days without rest due to nonstop gaming.
Suddenly, ethereal sparks of dark and purple hues emerged from the device, wrapping around Mitsuki's body as he slept. Instantly after, he vanished without a trace.